


Freckles

by eff_reality



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eff_reality/pseuds/eff_reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has always been a little self-conscious about his freckles.  But Zach likes them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freckles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [longwayfromhome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/longwayfromhome/gifts).



Chris’ skin has always been a point of shame for him, and not just for the years and years of acne. As a kid, he liked to cover it up as much as possible. So it’s still really fucking weird that so many people encourage him to show it these days. The underwear scene in the first _Trek_ was a huge leap for him, one that required convincing himself that he was in fact an entirely different person, a skill he’s exercised much more frequently than he ever expected to for work.

He’s still self-conscious about his freckles—especially the huge mother of a mole on his side. He remembers going to the beach with his family in his adolescence, and Katie teasing him mercilessly for covering it up with a band-aid.

Now that he’s (arguably) an adult, the marks don’t bother him nearly as much as they used to. Actually, he finds himself going shirtless a lot more, now that he basically works out for a living. Still, he can’t help but cringe when someone comments on them.

Zach settles into their booth, swooshing his hair out of his eyes in a slightly fabulous way that makes Chris smile. “What, none of the girls you’ve been with has ever offered to connect the dots?”

"No." Chris ducks his head, hoping that’ll be the end of the conversation. It’s not.

"Who the fuck are these women you date?" Zach looks appalled—and distracted by the freckles lining Chris’ bicep.

"I’ve wondered that myself. Many times."

Zach sets his gin-and-ginger down on the table and takes hold of Chris’ wrist with a playful grin, his fingers damp and cool as they extend his arm the way they might with the sleeve of a really nice shirt Zach’s eyeing. After counting all the visible marks under his breath, he settles himself underneath Chris’ arm to get a look at the other side, blinking drunkenly up at him from time to time. Zach spends so much time being a “serious artist” (read: pretentious asshole) that Chris often forgets how fucking cute he can be. Really fucking cute. “ _I_ like them,” Zach decides, lowering Chris’ arm to rest along his own thigh and sliding his drink over to his new spot for the evening.


End file.
